


Angel Kisses

by wings_of_castiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: But sweet jesus this sucks, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, I'll leave it up here because it's my first fic, M/M, Mistletoe, My First AO3 Post, My writing is shitty, Okay coming back to this I realised how bad this was, Sam Winchester is a Little Shit, Short & Sweet, fingers crossed, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 23:32:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14092131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wings_of_castiel/pseuds/wings_of_castiel
Summary: Yes Dean, a mistletoe. Yes, mistletoes are cheesy and cliche. No, Sam does not give a shit. Yes, he is tired of your pining and is prepared to do something about it.





	Angel Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic awhile ago, so I'm sorry that the writing quality leaves something to be desired. I also understand that there will be problems with the tense of the story. At the time of writing this, I struggled with keeping the tense consistent. You'll see me switch from past to present a lot. I apologize.

"No. God no."

"What? Why not?"

"There is no fucking way I'm doing that."

Charlie rolled her eyes. They'd known each other since junior high, since pigtails were cool and music was good, and this. This is how arguments always went between Sam and Dean Winchester. 'You can't make me.' 'Uh huh!' 'Nuh uh!' Uh huh!' Back and forth, back and forth.

How she put up with this on a regular basis was unknown to even the Queen of Moondoor herself, especially considering how she even struggled with pulling on her holiday themed socks this morning.

But it was quiet, at least for now.

"What the hell possessed you to think I'd be up for this?"

"I dunno Dean, maybe I figured that you'd learn to grow a pair in the thirty years I've known you?"

"Oh, real funny. Seriously, Sam, hilarious."

Charlie was sitting atop the island countertop; her expression one of disinterest but content. She began impatiently drumming her fingers on the marble, sipping her hot chocolate, wrapped snug in her blinking reindeer sweater. Oh yes. Her  _blinking_ reindeersweater. It lit up. Rudolph's nose. Definitely worth the twelve dollars extra.

" _Mistletoe_ , Sam? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"What? It's Christmas, Dean. And you've been talking about getting together with Cas for a while now. This gives you an excuse to-"

"No, you're using  _me_  to act out the mushy, lovey-dovey shit that you and Jess used to do!"

Oh. That's gotta hurt.

She glanced at the digital clock on the television stand; 7:14 pm. Damn, outside it looks like eleven. Well, shorter days and longer nights, isn't that what winter is known for? That and snow. Oh, and cheery as fuck Christmas songs that you hate with a burning passion but somehow still love with all your heart.

"Leave Jess out of this, Dean!"

"Fine, but I'm telling ya, Sam. This is not. Happening!"

"You are such a child! If you like him, and you want to make a move-"

"Jesus, don't put it like that it sounds so... weird!"

"I'm calling it like I see it, Dean. And I see it as you whining like a little bitch. Charlie!"

She cocked an eyebrow over her 'I AM SHERLOCKED' mug, surprised to be pulled into the conversation and clearly unwilling to participate in its petty bickering. She was about to say so, but then Dean also thought it well to round on her.

"Yeah! Your devote Worshipfulness, please please please tell Samantha here-"

"Dean-"

"-what an insufferable ass he's being, and to get off my fucking back!"

"You know what?  _Sure_ _!_  And while you're at it, tell Dean how he's acting like a childish dick!"

Oh, Sam did  _not_  just pull the dick card, That has not been okay since Dick Roman was elected for office. That leads to a road Charlie is  _not_  okay with going down. She's gotta put a stop to this...

"Hey, hey, hey! Shut up! Sam, low blow! And seriously? Mistletoe?! Not everyone is so cheesy and romantic as you! And Dean, man up! You like Cas, so fucking do something about it! Now stop. Yelling!"

"What the hell, you're supposed to be on my side!"

"No, Dean! There are no sides! I, Charlie Bradbury, Queen of Moondoor, declare that the next person to start yelling is banned from LARPing for a month! Dean, kiss Cas before some other hot, bronze muscle man does! Sam, shut your damn moose mouth!"

"I can't believe-"

"A month, Sam!"

"No, you can't just-"

"A month!"

Silence, albeit a reluctant one, and certainly not one that will last, but silence all the same.. A smirk played across Charlie's lips. Of course, she wouldn't ban either of them from anything. She didn't have that power, even as the Queen. And even then, she'd have trouble giving up her head guard and royal advisor.

He did have a point, though. Sam had a point. Dean needed to, quoting the youngest Winchester here, grow a pair. He's been rambling about how  _cute_  Cas is, and how Cas' eyes are just so  _blue,_ and how in love with him he is, and blah blah blah, for  _months_  now.

She finished her hot chocolate in one go, leaving her mug on the countertop. She had given that mug to Sam as a birthday gift, with the intent that it would encourage him to start Sherlock. Well, that and the fact that she kept badgering him with facts about the series and looming over him with threats of important spoilers on multiple occasions, but none of it worked.

"You leavin'?"

Ah, the end of a beautiful silence. What a shame. Charlie kicked on her shoes, swinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Yep. I need my beauty sleep-"

"Obviously."

Another smile tugged at the corners of Charlie's mouth, also tugging at those of the Winchesters'.

"And you guys have got some decorating to do tomorrow-"

Dean groaned miserably.

"And cooking Christmas dinner, Dean."

"Don't forget dessert."

"Yeah. Cookies and pumpkin pie and shit. Later bitches."

And the Queen walked out of 66 Carver Street with a kick in her step and triumph in her eyes.

***

"Knew you'd come around, Dean."

"Shut up."

"Seriously, though. I can't wait for you guys to finally get it over with."

"I said, shut up. How'd you know this is gonna work, anyways?"

"Because you and Cas are the biggest saps known to mankind. Give me a sec..."

"This is ridiculous. I can't believe I'm actually-"

"There!"

Sam stepped back from the doorway, the one that separated the sitting room from the kitchen. There it was, a mistletoe, posing proudly but discreetly amongst the beautiful yet chaotic mess of Christmas décor.

No. That description doesn't  _quite_  do it justice.

Brightly colored lights were stapled to the walls, unplugged as of now but will soon be blinking incessantly and to the point of irritation. Snow globes were present- and for now, undisturbed- stationed on every goddamn surface imaginable. The coffee table was draped in a red faux silk cloth, flecked with shimmering snowflakes, atop which displayed a beautiful and delicious array of sweets, including Dean's famous chocolate crinkle cookies. (As well as Sam's miserable attempt at peppermint macaroons, which were dry and doughy.)

In the kitchen, dinner sat proudly on the table. There were plates of steamed green beans, seasoned lovingly with whatever the hell Dean throws on them, a bowl of yams, smelling sweetly of cinnamon, tart tasting cranberries, honey glazed ham, and in the middle of this beautiful Christmas meal, lined up and ready to be eaten by hungry guests, was Heaven.

What? Oh! Damnit, sorry... Turkey. That was the thing sitting in the middle of the table. Yes.

On the most expensive platter to the Winchester name, which admittedly wasn't very pricey, sat a beautifully bronzed, flavorful turkey. 17 pounds of pure deliciousness. Compliments of Dean Winchester's astronomically wonderful cooking skills.

"You sure this is gonna work Sammy?"

"Definitely. It's Christmas, Dean. Nobody's gonna be weirded out by kissing under a mistletoe."

"Yeah... yeah, you're right."

***

_'Jingle bell, jingle bell, j_ _ingle bell rock._ _Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring. Snowing, and_ _blowing, up bushels of un. Now the jingle_ _hop_ _has begun!"_

Indeed the jingle hop had begun... three hours ago. Any and all treats were gone from their plates (excluding Sam's peppermint macaroons, obviously.) Dinner had been served and plates had been scraped clean, now piled high in the kitchen sink. The Christmas lights were still blinking furiously, but everyone stopped caring.

There had been a number of kisses under the mistletoe, including an especially awkward one between Garth and Jess. But Cas seemed to be intentionally avoiding the doorway to the kitchen, only succumbing in order to fetch himself some turkey.

Everyone, referring to Sam, Jess, Cas, Charlie, Kevin, Garth, and Benny, were gathered around the coffee table, playing Cards Against Humanity. Yes.  _Very_  family friendly game.

Garth was the card czar.

"Okay, the question is: 'What is a girl's best friend?'"

A number of playful "ooohs" from the players, who began rifling through their cards. Except Dean. He had been watching everyone play for a while now. Charlie was winning, only three cards away from winning. Unsurprisingly.

Cas was losing by far, with only one card to his name. Obviously, he wasn't gonna win. So, if he was taken out of the game...

Dean looked above his head, snagged the mistletoe, and pocketed it. Jesus, he was getting desperate. Embarrassingly desperate. But god damnit, he needed to man up.

So Dean cleared his throat.

"Hey Cas?"

Castiel turned his attention from his cards, peering up at Dean with curious blue eyes.

"Can we... can we talk outside for a moment?"

"Uh... sure, Dean."

Nobody seemed to be paying attention to them, all of them immersed in the game. Laughing full heartedly, and playing So none of them noticed when Dean and Cas pulled on their heavy coats, laced up their winter boots, and slipped out the front door.

***

Snow crunched beneath their feet, wind crashed into their sides. And then they were standing there, face to face, the clouds of their breath dissipating into the air. How was he gonna do this? He did not think this through. Oh god.

"Dean?"

A confused smile was painted across Cas' face, a teasing laugh in his voice.

"Did you want to tell me something? Couldn't we have done this in the kitchen? It's really fucking cold out here. Like, I was in the middle of game, you asshole."

"You weren't gonna win anyway, stupid. Anyway, I... um..."

"What? You gonna profess your undying love for me? Are we gonna elope? Because I am telling you, Dean Winchester, I look hot as  _hell_  in a wedding dress."

_Well,_ _you'r_ _e_ _close enough._

Dean nervously withdrew the mistletoe from his pocket, gnawing at the inside of his cheek. Cas' smile faltered, but quickly pulled himself together again.

"Don't tell me you brought me out here- in the fucking snow- for a passionate make out session. Jesus, Winchester, at least buy me dinner first."

"I made you dinner, you ass."

And then he kissed him.

***

_God, this feels_ _good._

The first thing that came to his mind: God, this feels good. And it did. This was easily the best feeling in the world. No doubt about it. Dean's thoughts, which were racing moments before, were silent. Still. Blank. Nada. Nothing. Only then. Only now. Only him and Cas.

It was as though the world seized to exist, as though time had abruptly halted, bending to his will. God was gone. Either that, or he was everywhere. Is he dead? Is he in Heaven? No, impossible. Surely Heaven wouldn't tolerate something as disgusting and impure as Dean Winchester. Perhaps he was in Hell, then.

 Yes. Yes, that must be it. Obviously. He was  _certainly_  on fire. Every part of his being burned, surged, boiled. Whatever. But Hell was full of pain, agony, despair. And this was the exact opposite. Oh, he burned, his blood rushed, his heart soared. But all he could think about was how much  _more_  he wanted, how beautifully wonderful it felt to be here and now.

Castiel's lips were chapped, warm despite the icy cold weather. This, what he was doing right now, just felt so perfect, so right. It was unbelievable. He, Dean Winchester, was locking lips with motherfucking  _Castiel_ _Novak._

Oh god. He was locking lips Castiel Novak. Just then he realized that he wasn't kissing back. Oh god no.

They broke apart, heat embarrassingly rising to his cheeks. Cas' eyes were wide open, bringing his hands to his lips. Oh, he fucked up. He fucked up. He fucked-

"You're supposed to kiss  _under_  the mistletoe, assbutt."

What? Dean looked down to his right. His hand was still hanging by his side, fist clutched tight around the mistletoe.

But why was Cas so concerned about that? He should be yelling, screaming, shouting at the top of his lungs. How Dean was disgusting, how he could never love someone as vile, as loathsome as  _Dean Winchester._ He should punch Dean, throw things at him, tell him just how worthless he was.

Or worse. He should be reject him... politely. He should tell Dean that 'things just wouldn't work out', that 'he feels so flattered that Dean would take an interest in him' and 'how sorry he is that he doesn't feel the same way.'

But here he was. Being the sarcastic ass he always is.

Cas reached down to touch Dean's hand, pulling it above their heads.

"Okay, let's do this over. You do the thing again and I'll act real surprised and shit. Now... action!"

But Dean was the one who was surprised and shit. He was completely still. Completely motionless. Cas was asking, no,  _telling_ Dean to kiss him. Well, he wasn't about to tell him no...

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my shitty writing <3\. This is my first completed fanfic, and I'm gonna try to be active on Ao3. It'll be mostly DeanCas, but maybe, if you guys request, I'll write about other ships or fandoms (they don't necessarily have to be all slash.) I have a Tumblr at wings-of-castiel, where I post Destiel stuff (sometimes NSFW). I'm pretty active on my Tumblr, so expect to see daily content! I'll post mostly short stories here, but a big fic with a bunch of sadness and angst and hurt!Dean is currently in the works! Expect to see that soon. Goodbye, my wings!


End file.
